When trash becomes jewelry and other near losses

Back during our summer vacation, the kid plucked a piece of twine from the floor of the Panama City regional airport, tied it around her wrist and called it a bracelet. She never took it off — not for swimming, not for bed, not for the first day of school.

Today, the bracelet went missing.

The thing was so filthy and sticky that I wasn’t sorry to see it go, but I tried to be supportive. I tried to convince her the losing the bracelet was probably good luck, that it had worn through and was now making its way into the world to bring her special magic. But she’s five, not an idiot. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s magic. I think it’s just lost,” she said. “I miss my bracelet.”